


A Garden Of One's Own

by exmachinarium



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmachinarium/pseuds/exmachinarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are moments when it gets lonely in the tower regardless of the time of year, but winters are definitely the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Garden Of One's Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [errantknightess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/gifts).



> Err, if you're reading this... Yeah, that anon fic in your askbox was mine.

There are moments when it gets lonely in the tower regardless of the time of year, but winters are definitely the worst. Pascal gets apathetic and can't be moved from the mantelpiece, mother gets cranky due to the chill, it gets dark much too soon ... Even the landscape turns bleak, thick layers of snow covering the valley entirely. Like an enormous blank canvas - only there is no way for Rapunzel to fill this emptiness with fantastic paintings. Frankly speaking, it's irritating.

Every day (where 'day' is actually just a few hours of light, really), she sits at the window, wrapped in every blanket she could find in the tower and reading one of her books... Again... And again... And again... She sighs and resists the urge to fling the book across the room in frustration. Why is it taking so long? When will the snow finally thaw? She wants Spring already! Warm breeze, sunshine, chirping birds and... Flowers?

Rapunzel untangles herself from the blankets and stands up to look through the window. No. Not through. _At_ the window, where slowly but surely the frost begins to spiral and form intricate flowers, leaves, branches - and before she knows it, there's a whole frost garden right there on the glass, blooming in the midst of winter for her eyes only. With a gleeful smile, Rapunzel presses both hands against the window pane - and backs up almost immediately, the chill biting at her fingers. A garden it might be, yet it still belongs to chill and frost. She can't touch or smell those flowers, she can only watch.

But before disappointment sets, the girl comes up with an idea. Once again approaching the garden of frost, she puts her face inches from the glass and slowly exhales. The window mists over, then slowly, very slowly clears again. Rapunzel breathes over the glass again and with her finger draws a butterfly over one of the frosty flowers. The window clears, but to her surprise in place of her butterfly appears another one, this time made not of light and breath, but of tiny frosty gems. It flaps its wings slowly, then a little faster, and moves across the cold garden, leaving a spiralling trace behind. Rapunzel claps, excited, and without hesitation breathes across the glass again, this time drawing a rabbit which immediately joins the butterfly among the flowers.

Night falls slowly and yet Rapunzel remains at the window, breathing and drawing in the mist, watching the frost garden become a town, a stormy sea, a castle drifting across the air... And when she falls asleep among the blankets, the tower doesn't seem so cold and lonely anymore. It almost seems as if she gained a friend.


End file.
